


Hippocracy

by DeathGirp



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Attempt at Humor, Boss/Employee Relationship, Doctor/Patient Relationship, Drama, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Everyone is kind of an asshole, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Maybe - Freeform, Reader-Insert, Romance, Slow Burn, like molasses slow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-02-23 06:10:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23006980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathGirp/pseuds/DeathGirp
Summary: Wishing to follow in her father's footsteps, (Name) becomes a doctor and can't wait to treat patients and save lives. Unfortunately for her, she somehow gets roped into becoming the personal family physician of the Kaiba brothers instead. The pay is incredible, but there's one major issue: after a terrible first meeting, Seto Kaiba becomes (Name)'s sworn enemy and she would rather send him to an early grave than try to keep him healthy. However, it would be a lot easier to hate him if he wasn't so easy on the eyes... At least (Name) has a strong moral and ethical compass, so she won't ever have to worry about an inappropriate Doctor/Patient relationship, right?Alternative summary: Two book-smart geniuses are complete idiots when it comes to understanding their emotions.Updates sporadically
Relationships: Kaiba Seto/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1: Stroke of Luck

**Author's Note:**

> The chapter title is a pun, get it? ( ͡° ͜ ʖ ͡° )
> 
> I combined the little prologue of sorts with the first chapter, since we all know who you came here to read about.

_ “Primum non nocere. . . First, do no harm.” _

This particular phrase, a core fundamental of the healthcare community, had been a driving mantra for (Name) for as long as she could remember, first hearing it from her father as a small child. A prodigy of sorts, (Name) was reading classic literature and learning abstract concepts by the time she was five years old. On the fateful day that (Name) considered to be the event that marked a turning point in her character, she’d managed to escape the dry and tedious clutches of her governess (and she’d already completed the homework that had been assigned for the next three months, so what was the point of the governess’ prattling on, anyway?) and wandered into her father’s study, hoping he could rescue her from her ennui, as well as her teacher’s disapproving scowl.

Much to her irritation, (Name)’s father was not in his study as she’d hoped, but that didn’t mean she was about to scamper back to the private library where her lessons took place and endure a lecture on respect and tenacity from that harping spinster. Instead, (Name) meandered around her father’s office, looking for something to appease her bored and listless mind. A glint of warm light reflecting from the sun streaming through the window caught her eye, and (Name) approached her father’s desk, curious as to what was shining so brightly. Her eyes fell upon the smooth marble plaque -- more specifically, the golden filigree that looped and twisted into words she’d never seen or heard.

“Primum non nocere,” she murmured, her small fingers delicately tracing the raised golden script. (Name) vaguely remembered her governess saying they would move on to learning Latin upon finishing her French studies, and being annoyed at having to learn a “dead” language if no one spoke it anymore.

“What do you think it means?” the deep, gentle timbre of her father’s voice sounded from behind her. (Name) turned to grin at her father’s tall frame standing in the doorway of his study, his suit pressed, and although there were dark circles under his eyes, they flickered with mischief and warm amusement.

“It’s Latin,” (Name) offered, her expression turning serious as she glanced back at the words, deep in thought. After a moment, she looked back at her father, lips turned down in a grimace of annoyance that she didn’t know the answer to his question. “Ms. Kirishima hasn’t taught me any Latin yet.” (Name)’s father chuckled at her stony expression before walking over and lifting her into his arms.

“It means, ‘first, do no harm,’” he said, planting a soft kiss on (Name)’s small head.

“But what is that  _ supposed _ to mean? Who is that supposed to apply to?” (Name) pressed. Her father’s lips twitched in amusement at her dissatisfaction with his answer before explaining further.

“It pertains to medical professionals, like surgeons, nurses--”

“Doctors?” (Name) interrupted, excitement in her voice. “Like you?”

“Yes, my dear, like me,” her father laughed. “As you know, doctors live to help others, specifically, they are meant to heal, so that phrase is part of an oath they take before getting their license, to remind them to always strive to help others, never to hurt them. Does that answer your questions?”

(Name) thought for a moment before nodding her head. “I think I want to be a doctor, like you, Daddy. Maybe one day we can go heal people together!” Her father beamed at her words before pressing his lips to her forehead once more.

“I would very much like that, Peanut,” he said, calling her by the nickname only she allowed him to use. “But we don’t have to wait until you’re older, you can help me right now by going back to Ms. Kirishima and completing your lessons for the day.” (Name) made a face as her father set her down, frowning that she’d been found out.

“But she’s so boring, and I’ve already finished all her work until April!” (Name) whined, tugging at her father’s pant-leg. “Why can’t I stay with you? I want to learn to be a doctor!”

“All the work until April, hmm?” her father said, ruffling her hair. “That’s very studious of you. I wish you could stay with me, Peanut, but Daddy has to go see his patient now.” Upon seeing (Name)’s pouting face, he plucked the marble plaque from his desk and placed it in his daughter’s tiny hands. “I bet if you ask nicely, Ms. Kirishima will start teaching you Latin. Use my plaque to convince her.”

“Really?” (Name) asked, eyes lighting up and forgetting about her previous misgivings about learning a “dead” language. “I’ll go ask right now!” With that she ran from her father’s study, cool marble heavy in her hands. She glanced down at the script once more.  _ Primum non nocere, _ she thought, trying the words out in her mind.  _ I like the sound of it. _

Do no harm. . . Whether or not she was fully aware of it, those words served as the lifeblood for (Name) as she grew into a bright young woman. Those words, in addition to her close relationship with her father and her mother’s condition, had guided her toward pursuing a medical doctorate, which she earned at the tender age of 24 years, making her one of the youngest doctors in all of Japan, if not the entire world. Whenever she was stressed out, whether from studying, residency, or treating patients, she repeated the Latin phrase in her mind while remembering her father’s gentle smile, and the words served to ground and soothe her. As such, she tried her best to always follow this oath, at least when dealing with patients. (Name) never outgrew the restlessness and impatience she felt as a child, perhaps due to her supposed status as something akin to a genius, so she had to make a constant effort to not snap at others when she found them to be slow and underperforming, which was most of the time. 

As a compromise, (Name) elected to keep to herself mostly, afraid that she wouldn’t be able to keep her relatively short fuse in check when interacting with others, though this unfortunately caused her to come across as standoffish. In fact, (Name)’s detached and reserved demeanor had inspired her peers to refer to her as  _ Yuki-onna _ behind her back, they thought, but she was well aware of the title throughout the entirety of medical school. The nickname surprisingly didn’t bother her too much, mostly because (Name) didn’t care about living up to the opinions of her simple-minded classmates. Most of them brought disgrace to the profession, with their slow wit and catty behavior-- despite many being as much as ten years her senior, and few of them actually deserved to call themselves doctors, she’d thought on more than one occasion.

Oh well, it couldn’t be helped, and medical school was behind her now, so (Name) didn’t have to subject herself to conversing with those fools ever again. She’d told some of them as much at the pinning ceremony when they’d babbled on about keeping in touch, and (Name) drew a certain amount of sadistic satisfaction at watching their faces blanch with rage and indignation.

It’s not as if (Name) was being needlessly cruel with her bluntness, the ones who had approached her asking for her mobile number were the greatest perpetrators of being nice to her face and then turning around and talking shit behind her back. Furthermore, she’d correctly deduced (if their faces contorting in shame were anything to go by) that the only reason her classmates wanted to “keep in touch” was due to her family’s elite, well-connected status to Japan’s high society.

“Leeches,” she’d spat at them, “trying to get ahead by using my mother and father’s hard work so you reap the benefit without having to put forth any effort?” She didn’t give them a chance to defend themselves, knowing she was right. (Name) cast them one last withering look of disdain before stalking away.

“Tell me, what is the point of your position if I have to do the work for you, you insufferable fool?” a cold voice barked, snapping (Name) out of her musings and forcing her to glance up from her laptop screen. Her eyes wandered across the large, upscale cafe, searching for the owner of the irate voice before settling on the tall, lithe form of a man with chocolate brown hair and piercing, sapphire blue eyes. The man, who looked to be no more than a few years older than (Name), glared menacingly at the elderly businessman trembling next to him. Despite the relative youth of the brunette, it was clear the older gentleman cowering underneath his sharp glower was the underling, and the young man his boss.

There was something vaguely familiar about the tall man with the thousand yard stare, (Name) thought as she absentmindedly traced the engraving on the back of her wristwatch. It had been a gift from her father as congratulations for earning her medical doctorate, and he’d flashed her his signature impish smile when presenting it, urging her to turn it over to see the message he’d had engraved on the back.  _ Primum non nocere _ , she’d read, tracing the loopy script just as she had almost 20 years before, laughing and throwing her arms around her father in delight.

“S-sorry, Kister Maiba, I-I mean Master Kebab,” the older man started, speech slurred. The young man’s cerulean eyes only hardened in cold fury, perceiving the man’s trouble speaking and mispronunciation of his name as mockery and further evidence to his incompetence. (Name) on the other hand, felt the hair on the back of her neck stand to attention, alarm bells ringing in her ears as she watched the older man’s right arm go unnaturally flaccid and hang limply at his side. Without thinking, she’d snapped her laptop closed and began walking swiftly over to the pair. (Name) could feel the dozens of eyes of the other cafe-goers on her form, tense from the heated exchange between the men, and confused and afraid that she was purposely walking over to intentionally interject herself into the fray, but she paid them no mind.

“Is this your idea of a joke?” the young man sneered, his gaze murderous and deep voice rising in volume. “First you manage to somehow lose the reports I’d asked for  _ weeks _ ago, and now you dare to mock my name?! Make no mistake, Mr. Fujima, not only are you fired, but I’ll make sure that you’ll never find work again in this city-- no, the country! Your family will have to--”

“Sir, I need you to sit down,” (Name) interrupted, finally arriving between the two men and all but shoving the older into a chair she pulled from a nearby table.

“Excuse  _ me _ ?” the brunette hissed, smoothly directing his wrath to the small young woman who dared to intrude on his private affair, giving no indication he’d been thrown off by her arrival. 

“Can you tell me your name, sir?” (Name) addressed the older man, pointedly ignoring the explosive temper of the younger and keeping her eyes focused on the senior.

“Fabe is Nuj-- Fub--” the man tried, his left eye widening in alarm as he struggled, while the right side of his face drooped.

“That’s alright, sir,” (Name) cooed, giving him a reassuring smile. “Help is on the way.” She reached for his wrist, intent on checking the man’s pulse, when a much larger hand snatched up her own.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” the younger man roared, azure eyes full of venom. “Who the hell do you think you are to push your way into my private affairs?! I should have you thrown out of this establishment! I should--!”

“Excuse  _ me _ ,” (Name) snarled back, her voice laced with just as much poison as the crystalline eyes of the man clutching her wrist held. Normally she didn’t allow the ignorance of bystanders to cause her temper to flare, but maybe the fact that her sleep schedule was still adjusting to Japan after having been in Africa for the last three months, or maybe because she was stressed that not  _ one _ hospital had responded to her application despite her graduating at the top of her class, her impressive resume of relief work, and not to mention who her parents were-- or maybe the fact that the man currently crushing her wrist in his hand was probably the most arrogant, self-absorbed  _ asshole _ she’d ever met-- but (Name) felt the anger building inside her and erupting before she had time to keep it in check, not that she would have curbed it for this smug prick to begin with.

“Are you so full of yourself that you can’t see the  _ obvious _ distress this man is in, or are you that much of an  _ idiot _ ?” she spat. “He is clearly suffering from a stroke and needs urgent medical attention before things get worse! Now get your hands  _ off _ \--” (Name) emphasized this with a violent jerk of her arm, effectively wrenching it from the man’s grasp-- “me and allow me to help him!” She turned her attention back to the older man and began taking his pulse. After a beat her head snapped back up and glared at the brunette towering over her. “Don’t just stand there gaping at me like a dead fish, call an ambulance!”

The young man’s cobalt eyes widened a fraction at the barrage of information and insults the smaller woman hurled at him before his scowl deepened and he wordlessly pulled out his phone, dialing the emergency number. “I didn’t realize they allowed children to become doctors these days,” he scoffed after barking orders at the poor operator on the other end of the call.

“Watch it, Pretty Boy,” (Name) growled at him. “Doctors are just as good at inflicting harm as they are at healing.” Not bothering to wait for a response, (Name) made a point of turning her back to the man looming over her and resumed whispering gentle words of reassurance to the employee, effectively ignoring the former.

Within minutes, likely thanks to the terror the young man instilled in the emergency operator, an ambulance arrived and whisked the older gentleman away on a stretcher. (Name) chatted briskly with the first responders as they loaded him into the ambulance, informing them of the man’s symptoms and their onset and firing off her recommendations for treatment once they reached a hospital. 

She waved as the ambulance sped away, before turning to collect her laptop and leave the cafe, not in the mood for the other patrons that had been absolutely  _ useless  _ during the whole incident to continue to stare at her dumbfounded, or worse, try to come over and thank her. Much to her annoyance, however, as she pivoted from the table she’d been sitting at and tried to leave, the young man with the volatile temper stood before her, blocking her path.

“I should have you arrested for that little threat you made, runt,” he said, fixing her with an icy glare. (Name) rolled her eyes before leveling him with her own.

“Like that would be good publicity for whatever company you run, Pretty Boy. I can see the headlines now,  _ Good Samaritan Young Doctor Arrested by Businessman After Saving his Employee’s Life. _ I’m sure that would go over with the police and the people you do business with  _ very _ well. If anything, you should be thanking me, seeing as I likely just saved your ass from a potential wrongful death lawsuit. Now, if you’ll  _ excuse me. _ ” (Name) brushed past the man, sidestepping any attempts to grab at her wrists again, and waltzed out the cafe door.


	2. Dinner with the Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oowee, look who's back to deliver another chapter! A lot has happened since the first upload-- I graduated with my doctorate, spent the entire summer preparing for my licensing exam, and just passed it the other week B) 
> 
> It was hard to focus on anything besides studying for the past few months, but now that's all behind me, so hopefully chapters will be cranked out at a more regular pace. No promises though, because I know how frustrating it is to have authors you follow promise they will upload by (insert date here) only to fall off the face of the earth because life gets in the way. I'd rather you have no expectations of me and be pleasantly surprised when I do upload ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

That evening (Name) arrived back at the manor she’d grown up in, waving at some of the maids dusting light fixtures or bannisters after she slipped off her shoes and hung her jacket on a nearby coat rack.

“Welcome back, Miss (Lastname),” one of the maids, Mei, greeted. “How was your day?”

“It was. . .” (Name) raised her eyes to the ceiling high above, searching for the right words to describe the excitement at the cafe that afternoon and her encounter with the snooty businessman. “Interesting,” she decided to settle on, hoping the maid would take her nonchalance at face value and not press for further details.

“Not as interesting as Africa was, I’m sure,” Mei said with a laugh.

“It was close,” (Name) muttered to herself before smiling politely at the maid. “Is my father home?”

“Yes, he’s in his study as usual. Oh, have you eaten, or should I have something prepared for you?”

“Oh, uh, whatever is fine,” (Name) said, already climbing the winding staircase that lead to the second floor, and her father’s study. “Bring it to Dad’s study when it’s ready. Thanks, Mei!”

(Name) ascended the final step and headed down the hall to her right, only pausing at the small shrine with her mother’s picture to say a quick prayer and pay her respects before continuing toward the dark mahogany doors that lead to her father’s office. She paused in front of the glossy wood and tentatively raised her hand before knocking gently.

“Dad, are you in here?” After a quiet pause (Name) heard her father’s voice call out, beckoning her in. She cringed as she heard the fit of coughs that wracked her father, immediately feeling guilty for forcing him to speak.

The office was lit only by the warm light of a standing lamp near the bay windows, with (Name)’s father resting in the cushy burgundy leather chair by the light source, a large leatherbound book in his hands.

“Hey, Peanut,” her father greeted, adjusting his reading glasses to get a better look at his daughter. “How was your day?” He made to rise from the chair, but (Name) stopped him with a wave of her arm before walking over to embrace him.

“Oh, you know,” she said, ducking her head to allow him to kiss her forehead. “Eventful.”

Her father chuckled at her evasive choice of words. “That’s what I heard. It sounds like you got to put your new skills to use, and over coffee, no less! How was that?”

“Let me guess,” (Name) said with a roll of her eyes, “one of your friends at the hospital told you?”

“Yes, Dr. Honda called and said some of the first responders told him that a scary young lady treated his stroke patient before he’d even arrived at the hospital. I thought you’d like to know that thanks to your quick response, that man is doing quite well and is expected to make a full recovery in less than a week’s time.” (Name)’s father beamed at her before pulling her into another embrace. “I’m proud of you, Peanut,” he said against her hair. “You saved that man’s life today.”

“It was nothing,” (Name) mumbled, blushing at her father’s praise and heart swelling at the compliment. “I just got him in a chair and kept him from falling over, that’s hardly heroic in my book.” (Name)’s eyebrow twitched in irritation after a moment as she perched herself on the edge of her father’s armrest. “I could have done a lot more if the guy’s asshole of a boss hadn’t tried to stop me. The idiot couldn’t tell the guy was in trouble and made things worse by continuing to yell at him and me while I was trying to work! I sure hope he’s not so big of an asshole to fire the guy for having a stroke, but somehow I doubt it.” She scoffed and crossed her arms, unaware her fingers had sought out the engraving on the underside of her watch.

(Name)’s father only laughed at her little rant, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “Well either way, you should be proud of what you did for that man, Peanut. He’s alive, thanks to you.” After a moment of comfortable silence, her father spoke again. “How was the rest of your day? I didn’t get anymore calls from Dr. Honda or the others, so I would assume you didn’t have to step in for any other medical emergencies?”

“Right,” (Name) said with a chuckle, but her good mood was fleeting and she bit her lip as anxiety took root in her stomach. “It was alright, but I can’t help but feel worried. I’ve been sending applications to all the hospitals in the city since I got back last week, but I haven’t heard back from a single one! I thought doing relief work in Africa would make me more desirable to potential employers, not scare them away. I just wish that they--”

(Name) cut herself off with a dry cough, face flushing in embarrassment at what she almost let slip. She would sooner die than tell her father that she wanted to use her family ties to secure a job at the hospital of her choice, but admitting that would be admitting she was no better than the former classmates she called leeches. (Name)’s father quirked his eyebrow at her sudden rigidity before rubbing small circles on her back. Whether he did this out of comfort or to soothe her cough, she wasn’t sure.

“I know the process can be frustrating, Peanut,” her father began, “but luckily for you your old man has some connections. I’ve got a dinner scheduled for tomorrow night with you, me, and a potential client! He’s very eager to meet you, so I expect that you’ll be getting offered a job by tomorrow night at this time.”

“Dad,” (Name) groaned, shooting her father what she hoped he interpreted as irritation, even though she felt relieved internally for his extensive business connections. “I appreciate you trying to help, but this is something I need to do on my own. I can’t rely on yours and Mom’s legacies to get what I want; if I do that, no one will think I earned my MD or anything else by my own merits. They’ll think I skated through life on Mommy and Daddy’s coattails.”

_Hypocrite_ , a voice hissed in her head, but (Name) ignored it.

“Your sense of honor is endearing, Peanut,” her father said, “but your stubbornness less-so. You’re letting your pride and a misguided sense of nobility cloud your judgement. I can’t think of anyone besides you that wouldn’t immediately jump at the chance for an opportunity such as this. We will meet with this potential client tomorrow as scheduled, end of discussion.” To further emphasize his point, (Name)’s father picked his book up and began reading again.

(Name) sighed, feeling guilty, but she didn’t press the issue further. Her father was more stubborn than her, and she knew he was right anyway. She shouldn’t be ungrateful for the opportunities she was presented with. Still tracing her watch with one hand, (Name) pushed off the armrest and made her way to the exit. “I may have arranged this meeting, Peanut,” her father called to her retreating form, “but it’s up to you to prove you deserve it.”

“Yes, Father,” she mumbled, gently shutting the study door behind her.

The following day was devoted entirely to getting ready for the dinner/interview hybrid. Despite the front (Name) put on for her father about being adamant in refusing his help, she was determined to make a good first impression, especially since this was the first potential employer to actually demonstrate interest in hiring her. It took her almost three hours alone to decide what to wear -- the restaurant they were going to was upscale even for (Name)’s tastes; it was the type of place where the servers spoke French even though they were thousands of miles away from the country of origin.

After deliberating between the same five outfits for hours, (Name) finally settled on an emerald green A-line off-the-shoulder cocktail dress and a pair of stiletto heels with bows in the matching shade. She completed the look with light make-up and her hair half up, with the free strands cascading around her shoulders loosely curled.

It irritated and mildly disturbed (Name) as she slipped into her dress just how much this reminded her of a first date, especially considering her father would be accompanying her to the meeting. And besides, if this contact was a friend of her father’s, he would likely be just as old if not older than him anyway. (Name) exited her room and made her way downstairs to the main sitting room, fingers tracing her watch and too nervous to realize she still had two hours before they were scheduled to leave.

“You look lovely, Peanut.” The sound of her father’s voice snapped (Name)’s gaze away from the bay window. He leaned against the railing at the foot of the stairs, clad in a navy blue suit and steel gray tie, which highlighted the gray in his hair, (Name) thought with mild discontent. “Your mother would have been so proud to see you like this.” He walked over to her perch at the windowsill and patted her head, careful not to mess up her hair.

“Thanks, Dad,” (Name) said, looking down at her hands clasped in her lap, feeling awkward at his sentimental praise. She cleared her throat before changing the subject. “It feels weird to get all dressed up again. In school I was so used to wearing scrubs, and I practically lived in my cargo shorts and hiking boots in Africa.”

“Well, you clean up good,” her father said with a gentle laugh, before offering her his arm. “Shall we?” She wiped her palms-- which had grown clammy-- on her dress before accepting his help. The two of them exited the front door and climbed into the backseat of the car their chauffeur pulled up. The ride to the restaurant was quiet and tense, at least for (Name), as she internally struggled to keep herself from gnawing at her nails out of nervous habit.

“I think you’ll quite like this man,” her father said as they finally pulled up to the restaurant. “He’s serious, but much more agreeable than his father ever was.”

“So that’s why he’s so interested in meeting me?” (Name) said, taking her father’s hand as he helped her out of the town car. “Because you treated his father, and then him, I presume?”

“As a doctor you know I’m not at liberty to discuss patients I may or may not have treated,” he said, an amused gleam in his eye that confirmed (Name)’s deductions.

When they entered the restaurant, (Name) double checked the time on her watch before confirming that it was indeed just before 7pm. “Where is everybody?” she asked, gesturing to the barren dining room before them, brightly lit with chandeliers that gave the crisp linens of each empty table an almost ethereal glow. “It’s the dinner rush-hour, this place should be packed.”

“Our client is a very private person outside of his regular business endeavors,” her father answered as a hostess guided them to a large round table in the middle of the room. “He prefers to conduct his affairs as privately as he can whenever possible.”

“He must be ostentatiously wealthy if he can afford to buy out a restaurant of this caliber during the dinner rush,” (Name) muttered, sliding into a seat with her back to the main entrance. She barely had the chance to unfold her napkin before her father stood back up, grinning at the sound of the door opening with a chime.

“Ah, there he is,” her father greeted. (Name) fumbled to get out of her chair as gracefully as possible in spite of the quaking of her legs. She was so focused on the placement of her feet -- seriously, why did she think wearing stilettos was a good idea, especially after months of backpacking through southern Africa in her boots? -- that she didn’t raise her head in greeting to the mystery patron until he was merely a few stride-lengths away from their table.

“Dr. (Lastname),” a deep, irritatingly familiar voice spoke. (Name) snapped her head up to openly gape at the tall brunette from the day before as he extended a large hand to her father’s own outstretched one. “It’s good to see you again.”

“ _You_!” (Name) snarled, recovering from her astonishment to shoot an accusing glare at the young man.

“You,” he drawled back, countenance blank and disinterested, if not for the flicker of mirth in his glacier blue eyes that betrayed him.

“Ah, I’m sure he needs no introduction,” (Name)’s father began, cheerfully oblivious to the murderous staredown occurring between his daughter and the young man. “But allow me to introduce you. (Name), this is Seto Kaiba. Mr. Kaiba, this is my daughter, Dr. (Name) (Lastname). (Name), Mr. Kaiba is the CEO of Kaiba Corp--”

“I know who he is, Father!” (Name) snapped, turning to glare at her father. “But it’s not for whatever company he runs. This man-- this asshole--” her father’s face blanched in horror at her blatant disrespect and he growled her name in warning, but she continued on, unperturbed. “--is the very person I told you about yesterday! He’s the awful, sadistic man who continued to yell at his poor employee despite the fact he was having a stroke!

“He’s fine, by the way,” she sneered at the young man, Kaiba. “Though I doubt you actually care.”

“(Name)!!” her father hissed, grabbing her upper arm and louring at her. His expression was one she hadn’t seen since she intentionally caught her textbooks on fire during a chemistry lesson when she was nine. “I will not have my daughter treating my patient and her potential employer so abhorrently! They may have allowed you to behave so disgracefully in Africa, but I will not permit that here. You bring me shame, and if you have any semblance of the young lady I raised, you will apologize most profusely to Mr. Kaiba for disrespecting him so horribly!”

(Name) felt her face grow hot with humiliation at being disciplined by her father in front of someone she held such disdain for. Despite all her growth and accomplishments, suddenly she was nine years old again being reprimanded for her childishness, and she felt remorse, not for what she said about Kaiba, but for her father. He no doubt had talked endlessly to the young man about her, enough to peak Kaiba’s interest in meeting and potentially hiring her, and all (Name) had done was dishonored her father’s good will.

Cheeks still flushed and tips of her ears burning, (Name) turned to face Kaiba once again, eyes downcast and pride swallowed. “I-I’m sorry, Mr. Kaiba, for speaking so horrendously to you. I should not make assumptions on your character based on how you reacted during yesterday’s stressful situation.

“It’s not fair of me to judge those who have not been trained in the medical profession for being unaware of the hallmark signs of an emergency. I understand if you do not wish to speak with me any further, but please don’t punish my father for my awful behavior. He’s done nothing to warrant such ire, besides being related to me.”

After a tense silence, Kaiba answered her. “If your father were not the exceptional doctor I know him to be, I would have walked out the moment I realized you were his daughter.” (Name)’s skin prickled in rage at his scathing insult, but she bit her lip to keep from insulting him all over again. “However,” Kaiba continued in an icy tone, “I am quite famished, and intend to stay for dinner. Consider yourself very lucky.” He brushed past her and took a seat at the table, browsing the menu and paying (Name) and her father no mind.

(Name) let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding before stiffly settling back into her own seat. “Thank you for your generosity, sir,” she said through gritted teeth. For much of the meal, (Name) remained silent, idly listening to the light conversation her father engaged in with Kaiba. They talked mostly about Kaiba’s business ventures and his plans for developing new gaming software, all of which (Name) found to be incredibly dull.

She tried hard to not look like a sullen puppy, but she still seethed internally, partially at Kaiba, but mostly at her own stupidity in letting her short temper get the best of her. Despite the fact that Kaiba stayed for dinner, there was no doubt in her mind she’d completely obliterated her chances at being hired by the billionaire, but it didn’t bother her too much. The moment (Name) saw Kaiba she knew she would never accept a position answering to him, no matter how much he could offer to pay.

“So,” Kaiba began, cool eyes sweeping over to (Name). “Your father said you were studying in Africa for some time, is that correct?” It took (Name) a moment before she realized he was addressing her, her father nowhere in sight after he’d excused himself to use the bathroom.

“Oh! Um, yes, I was there for the last few months, and I only just got back last week.” When Kaiba continued to stare at her, eyes narrowed slightly in mild annoyance, (Name) continued her explanation. “I was over there with an international group of other medical students. We visited several different countries -- Tanzania, Zimbabwe, Mozambique -- and provided medical care to those who were too poor to afford it, or lived too far from hospitals to receive it.”

“And the conditions you treated those patients for have no doubt returned due to those communities’ lack of resources,” Kaiba said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “So what was the point of spending all that time over there? It sounds like a waste of time and money to me.”

“It was most certainly _not_ a waste,” (Name) snapped, indignance from earlier returning. “We didn’t just slap some bandages on a few children and leave, we taught many of our patients how to properly clean and treat wounds and illnesses common to those areas. And even if our work truly was so fleeting, we still made a difference for them, showing we cared about their well-being and--”

“And in turn increasing your chances of securing a job with an elite hospital,” Kaiba interrupted.

“That too,” (Name) growled, too annoyed at the man’s arrogance to realize she fell right into his trap.

“So it wasn’t as altruistic as you want others to believe,” he said with a smirk. “So did your selfish little plan work out? Have you received many job offers outside of meeting with me?”

“Of course,” (Name) said, much too quickly for it to sound like the truth. “Loads.”

“Liar,” Kaiba scoffed, taking a sip of his wine.

“Just what do you mean by that?” (Name) seethed.

“I know for a fact you haven’t received a single offer for a position at even the most pathetic hospitals this city has to offer because I ensured you wouldn’t.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Kaiba rolled his eyes as if his cryptic words conveyed the most obvious message in the world. “I mean you haven’t received any shred of acknowledgement about your applications because I bribed and/or threatened every hospital in Domino with bankruptcy to keep them from reaching out to you.”

(Name) could only gape at him in stunned silence as his words sunk into her skin and turned the blood in her veins to ice water. “Y-you’re lying,” she stuttered, but even she knew she was in denial. (Name) may not have known much about Kaiba’s company or his business endeavors, but even she knew the kind of power and influence he held, and she was certain he had enough wealth to sue each hospital in the city ten times over if the whim struck him.

“I assure you, Dr. (Lastname),” Kaiba said, tone humorless as he steepled his fingers together and leaned toward her across the table, “I am not.”

“So that’s the kind of game you’re playing, huh?” (Name) growled, doing everything in her power to keep her voice from cracking. “I insulted you yesterday with my ‘meddling’ so you’ve ensured that I’ll never find work in this city for the rest of my life, is that it?”

Kaiba chuckled at her accusation, but to (Name)’s surprise, his laughter was genuine and devoid of malice. “Do you really find me so cruel after having just met, Doctor? While I admit that is something that’s within my realm of possibilities, my intentions are nowhere near so sinister.”

“Then what do you want with me?” (Name)’s fingers trembled in her lap and her voice teetered on becoming shrill.

“To offer you a job, of course,” he sneered, eyes dancing with an emotion (Name) couldn’t read.

“Why would you do something like that, especially after I pissed you off so much yesterday, or my extensive attack on your character not two hours before?”

Kaiba sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He spoke slowly, as if explaining to a dimwitted child, irritation creeping back into his voice. “Your father is a fine doctor, likely the only competent one I’ve ever met.”

“Oh, so you feel like you need to hire me because you’re indebted to him or something?” (Name) snorted. “Whatever it is, you don’t need to offer me a job out of pity just because you feel like you owe him.”

“I wasn’t finished,” Kaiba snapped, glaring at (Name). “As I’m sure he’s already told you, he is retiring soon, so I will need a replacement for my personal physician. Rather than waste my time going through an application process to find a suitable candidate, I would much prefer someone blood related to him. That way I can be guaranteed my new doctor will have at least a _shred_ of aptitude.”

Once more (Name) could only stare at him in dazed silence. She wasn’t sure which was more absurd, his reasoning for wanting to hire her, or the fact he sort of gave her a backhanded compliment. She watched his long fingers twitch in impatience before (Name) was coherent enough to string together a response.

“I refuse,” she blurted out. Kaiba arched one of his immaculately groomed eyebrows, eyes unamused but unsurprised. (Name) licked her dry lips before elaborating. “It’s not to say that I’m not, uh, flattered, Mr. Kaiba--”

“Don’t be,” he said flatly.

“--but I won’t accept a position just because of my father’s connections. I refuse to rely on my family’s legacy just to get ahead in life. Thank you for the offer, but I respectfully decline.”

“How noble,” Kaiba hummed with a roll of his beryl eyes.

“Thank you--”

“And incredibly stupid,” he continued, ignoring (Name). “You do realize that whether or not you decide to accept my generous offer, no hospital in the city will ever dare to hire you, don’t you?” He examined his fingernails in disinterest as he spoke.

“I expected as much, but I’ve never felt particularly attached to Domino City,” (Name) said without missing a beat. Kaiba scoffed and placed his hands on the table before leaning even closer to her, his long torso allowing him to invade more of (Name)’s personal space than she was comfortable with. She fought the urge to shift away in response.

“Allow me to clarify, Dr. (Lastname),” Kaiba rumbled, a dangerous edge to his voice. “With my power and resources, there is nowhere in the country, or the entire world that would hire you if I did not desire them to. Is that clear?”

(Name) tried and failed to suppress a shudder from traveling up her spine at his words. His heated breath fanning over her face and neck only added to her shivering. Kaiba smirked in satisfaction as he watched her trembling before returning to his side of the table. He took a long, languid sip of his wine before leveling (Name) with a smug gaze.

“I don’t like repeating myself, Dr. (Lastname),” he said, swirling the sanguinous liquid in his glass, “but I’ll make an exception just this once. I would like to offer you a position as my personal physician. What do you say?”

(Name) opened and closed her mouth several times, vibrating with barely-contained rage. He was seriously going to threaten her into working for him?! Just what kind of sociopath was she dealing with?

What was worse, (Name) realized with cold dread, was there was nothing she could do to get out of this. She absolutely believed he had the ability to prevent her from working anywhere on the entire goddamn globe, and from what she knew of him so far, he wouldn’t hesitate to exert that kind of control if she dared to defy him.

(Name) squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled deeply, forcing herself to remain seated and not launch across the table to throttle the egoistic billionaire before her. With a defeated sigh, (Name) opened her eyes and shot Kaiba the most murderous glare she could muster.

“Well, Mr. Kaiba,” (Name) snarled, tone dripping with sarcasm and knuckles white from gripping her napkin in fury. “With an offer like that, how could I ever _refuse_?”

Kaiba’s eyes sparked with triumph and his smirk grew wider. “I knew you’d see it my way, sooner or later,” he said coolly. “All you needed was a little incentive.”

“ _Incentive_?” (Name) sputtered, almost shredding the cotton napkin trapped in her hands. “Is that what you’re calling it? That’s extortion you son of a--!”

“So, what did I miss?” (Name)’s father interrupted, suddenly appearing at her side. His tone was light and airy, but the way his fingernails bit into the skin of her shoulder made it clear he would go as far as threatening his only child with disownment if she continued to misbehave.

“Your daughter has agreed to become my personal physician,” Kaiba said smoothly, unperturbed by the young woman across from him trying to cause him to spontaneously combust with her gaze alone.

“R-really?” her father gasped, releasing (Name)’s shoulder. “That’s wonderful news! I’m so happy for you, Peanut!”

“Thank you, Father,” (Name) said through clenched teeth, feeling a vein in her temple bulge as she watched Kaiba’s grin stretch a fraction wider upon hearing her father use his nickname for her. “Mr. Kaiba was very _persuasive_.”

“I always get what I want,” Kaiba hummed in agreement, brandishing a platinum credit card from his pocket and holding it between two of his fingers with a flourish. Immediately a waitress seemed to materialize and collected the card before scampering off.

“As much as I enjoyed this dinner,” Kaiba said in a tone that implied the entire evening had been a chore, “there is some work I must finish up at the office.” He waved off (Name)’s father’s slower attempts to pay the bill, and the waitress reappeared with his card and complimentary mints for the table. Kaiba stood abruptly, pulling on his overcoat before walking over to shake her father’s hand.

Begrudgingly, (Name) clambered out of her chair and extended her own hand, meeting Kaiba with a strong grip she hoped-- though sincerely doubted-- hurt him. “Come to my office tomorrow afternoon, Dr. (Lastname), and we will finalize your contract,” he said, sapphire eyes betraying no emotion.

“I’m looking forward to it,” (Name) said in a mockingly sweet tone. Kaiba grunted in response and strode toward the exit, long coat billowing behind him like a supervillian cape. (Name) and her father followed soon after.

“You’re either incredibly lucky, Peanut, or you have some impressive people skills to get someone like Seto Kaiba to offer you a job after your explosive tantrum at the start of dinner,” her father said as they stood outside waiting for their car to pull up. From the corner of her eye (Name) could tell her father was still upset with her behavior.

“I’m sorry, Father,” she said with a sigh. “I did not think of how my words and actions would reflect on you. My intent was never to embarrass you, and I will behave in an exemplary fashion as Mr. Kaiba’s personal physician from now on to demonstrate I am worthy of continuing your legacy.”

Her father hummed in response. “Mr. Kaiba is a good man, and I think if you give him a chance you’ll enjoy working with him.”

The town car pulled up and the two climbed into the back, and although (Name)’s father attempted to learn what she and Kaiba talked about while he was in the restroom, (Name) remained silent, stomach in knots and her ears ringing with her father’s words. _Incredibly lucky, huh?_ she thought as she gazed out the window and watched the lights of the city rush past in a blur. _I have luck alright, but I guess it’s only the bad kind._


	3. Legerdemain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's ya boi Mokuba in this chapter. That is all.

The following afternoon (Name) found herself standing outside a massive skyscraper with the letters “KC” glowing at the top. She clutched her medical bag and would have considered just skipping town if she wasn’t so certain her new “boss” would send his personal military on an extraction mission after her. Steeling herself before ultimately signing her life away, (Name) took a deep breath and stormed through the large glass doors.

The ground floor unsurprisingly was a lobby of sorts with several lounge areas full of plush and expensive upholstery. There were a few people dressed in smart business suits chatting in those nooks, but for the most part the space was quiet. (Name) made her way over to a large desk area that reminded her of a hotel concierge and one of the women seated behind the counter greeted her with a bright smile.

“Hello, welcome to Kaiba Corp, how may I help you?”

“Hello, I have an appointment scheduled with Mr. Kaiba,” (Name) said, fighting to keep the nervousness from her voice.

“Name, please?”

“Um, Dr. (Name) (Lastname).”

“Oh!” the young woman gasped, hopping out of her chair and coming round the desk. “Yes, of course! Right this way, Dr. (Lastname)!” The secretary led (Name) past the several elevators across the room to a small, sleek lift at the very end. She produced a key card and swiped it over a control screen, and the glossy pewter doors sprang open.

“This will take you all the way up to Mr. Kaiba’s office on the top floor,” the woman said as she gestured (Name) inside. “Goodbye, have a wonderful rest of your day!”

The doors snapped shut and (Name)’s stomach lurched at the speed with which the private elevator rocketed her up the building. She all but stumbled out once the doors slid open and found herself in another large waiting room with a young woman seated behind a desk at the far end. A cursory sweep of the room, decorated in brilliant white, stormy grey and a deep blue that subconsciously reminded (Name) of Kaiba’s eyes, told her the entire top level of the building was devoted to Kaiba’s office and personal reception area.

“Hello, Dr. (Lastname),” the young woman behind the desk said once she approached, her demeanor much more reserved than that of the secretary on the ground floor. It made sense to (Name); she couldn’t see anyone as impatient as Kaiba able to tolerate the exhausting chipperness of the young woman downstairs for more than five seconds. “Please have a seat and make yourself comfortable. Mr. Kaiba is finishing up a meeting and will be with you soon.”

(Name) gave the woman a stiff nod before perching herself in a chair closeby. Her eyes were rooted on the frosted glass of the large double doors leading to his office, unable to tear her gaze away as her fingers found comfort in tracing the familiar lettering on her watch.

After what felt like hours, the silence was shattered by the ringing of the receptionist’s phone. She picked it up and then set it back on the receiver in a matter of seconds before turning to (Name). “Mr. Kaiba will see you now.”

“Thank you,” (Name) said as she walked toward the doors on rigid legs, fighting to suppress an eye roll that Kaiba was supposedly too busy and self-important to walk the fifteen feet to his office door and instead needed to call his secretary. The frosted glass parted before her and (Name) trotted into the sleek, minimalist-styled office that was easily four times the size of the waiting room.

“So you’re finally here,” a disinterested voice grunted from across the room. (Name) turned to see Kaiba seated at a large mahogany desk typing away at his computer. She noticed with irritation that he hadn’t even bothered to look in her direction upon her arrival.

“I have been for quite some time,” (Name) snapped, scowling at the young man as she stalked over to his desk.

“I’m a very busy man,” Kaiba said, still not sparing her a glance as his fingers continued to fly across the keyboard at an inhuman speed. “I don’t have time to entertain your every whim.”

“Then why the hell am I here?” (Name) seethed, twisting the leather straps of her doctor’s bag between her hands as if they were Kaiba’s neck she was strangling. “And you’re the one who invited me here, not the other way around!”

“Your contract is on the table over there,” he said, jutting his chin towards a coffee table positioned near a white modernist couch. “Read it over if you wish, and then sign it.”

For the most part, the legal document was pretty standard and similar to the kind (Name) would have signed had she been hired at a regular hospital. The main deviations were the annual salary-- substantially higher than that of even the most tenured physicians, and outside of requiring her to be on call at all times, the amount of actual hours she would be required to work each year was sparse at best.

_Maybe this won’t be so bad_ , a tiny voice whispered in (Name)’s mind, but she squashed it down, not willing to accept something this good to be true.

“Well, have you signed it yet, or are you just going to stare at it all day?” Kaiba snapped, causing (Name) to jump. She hadn’t realized he got up from his desk to tower over her.

“Um, I have a few questions,” (Name) mumbled.

Kaiba gave an impatient huff, fingers tapping against his arm as they folded over his broad chest. “Speak.”

“Well, it says here that the only hours you expect me to work are when I give you and this ‘Mokuba’ guy physicals, and to attend to you two when you are ill, is that correct?”

“Yes, that is what the contract says,” Kaiba said, tone condescending.

“But that means you only need me to work what, one or two weeks a year? What am I supposed to do for the rest of it?”

“What you do in your free time is of no interest to me, Dr. (Lastname),” Kaiba huffed with a roll of his eyes. “As I said earlier, I am not interested in playing babysitter.”

“Does that mean I could work at a hospital still?” (Name) asked, feeling a spark of hope flickering in her heart.

“No,” Kaiba said, tone sour. “As a doctor you should know being on-call 24/7 means just that. Your attention should be focused entirely on your job as my physician, and having you work somewhere else would prevent that from happening.”

“So you’re expecting me to just sit and look pretty for 99% of the year?!” (Name) cried, leaping to her feet in indignation. She gathered herself to her full height, but her attempt at intimidating Kaiba was pitiful at best considering he still loomed over her like a giant. “I did not bust my ass for the past eight years in school only to have my medical degree go to waste just because you don’t want to share!”

Kaiba’s frown deepened at her words and the pair continued their staredown for several heartbeats before he spoke again. “My offer is quite generous, Dr. (Lastname), so I suggest you sign the contract unless you want me to adjust your salary so you never make enough to stay above the poverty line.” He retrieved a fountain pen from his pocket and presented it to (Name); in his mind it was an olive branch, but in hers it may well have been a dagger coated with poison.

When (Name) made no move to take the pen, Kaiba’s lip curled in a sneer and he thrusted it closer, nearly stabbing her in the chest with it. “Remember that if you reject my proposal I will ensure you never practice medicine anywhere in the world, two weeks out of the year be damned,” Kaiba growled.

With her jaw clenched, (Name) snatched the fountain pen from his hand and brought it down on the contract, nearly slicing through the paper as she signed her name. When she was finished, she childishly threw the pen at Kaiba, hoping to bean him with it, his status as her employer obsolete.

He caught it with ease and huffed at her juvenile behavior. “Never have I met someone so averse to the idea of working for me,” he said with a raise of his eyebrow.

“You’ve basically blackmailed me into slavery,” (Name) shot back in a hiss.

Kaiba scoffed at her response and rolled his indicolite eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. The last I checked, slaves weren’t paid for their service, especially not several million more per year than the highest-grossing doctors in the world.”

“You would have me sitting around all day, _pining_ for you to call on me!” (Name) nearly shouted, fists clenched at her sides. “This is a waste of my medical doctorate, Mr. Kaiba, how the _hell_ do you expect me to feel--”

At that moment the sound of an elevator chimed from across the room, and a lanky young man with a mane of long black hair and boyish features stepped out, interrupting (Name) and Kaiba’s heated argument.

“Hey Seto, my piano lesson let out early, so I thought I’d stop by before going home,” the man said, walking over to Kaiba with a cheerful grin on his face. When his gunmetal eyes landed on (Name), they widened in surprise. “Oh!” he gasped before a mischievous smile pulled at his lips. “Seto’s never brought a girl into his office before! You must be pretty special to him!” He extended his hand for (Name) to shake as he walked over. “I’m--”

“ _Mokuba_ ,” Kaiba hissed in warning. “This is Dr. (Lastname)’s daughter, Dr. (Name) (Lastname). She will be taking over as our physician now that her father has retired.”

“Oh!” Mokuba said again. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so young!” He ignored a disapproving look from Kaiba and grasped (Name)’s hand in a firm shake. “It’s really nice to meet you, Dr. (Lastname). I’m Mokuba, Seto’s younger brother.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” (Name) said with a wary smile, suspicious of how such a warm, spirited teenager could be related to the icy young man who only seemed to know two emotions-- smug prickishness and condescending disdain.

“It would seem it’s your lucky day, Dr. (Lastname),” Kaiba said brushing past her and returning to his desk. “You were complaining about lack of available hours, so your first task as our physician is to give Mokuba the flu shot he’s due for.”

“ _What_?!” Mokuba shrieked, yanking his hand away from (Name) and recoiling as if she spit acid on him.

“I should warn you, he hates needles,” Kaiba called, mouth twitching with genuine amusement. “Good luck.”

“You’re working on calculus?” (Name) asked, peering over Mokuba’s shoulder at his homework splayed out on the glass coffee table. “How old are you anyway?”

“I’m nineteen!” Mokuba said with a smile, puffing out his chest in pride, before making a face. “It took forever to hit my growth spurt though.”

_I was going to guess twelve based on the juvenile reaction to a flu shot alone_ , (Name) thought with a raise of her eyebrow. Just a few minutes after Kaiba announced Mokuba was scheduled for his shot, a tall man with a mustache Kaiba addressed as Isono arrived and delivered a parcel to (Name). Inside the paper bag were a set of vials containing the influenza serum and hypodermic needles.

Mokuba remained silent and rigid as (Name) prepped his arm with an alcohol swab, but the moment he saw the needle he swatted at it and scrambled to the other end of the couch, growling like a feral cat. (Name)’s eyes widened in shock, vaguely aware of Kaiba’s piercing blue gaze on her form. Mokuba had the worst reaction to needles she’d ever seen, and she gave a lot of shots in medical school. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose before placing the cap back on the needle and pocketing it.

“Tell you what, Mokuba,” (Name) said, giving him a gentle smile and scooting closer. “I’m not going to force you to get a shot if you don’t want one. I know how scary needles can be.”

“This is exactly the opposite of what I ordered you to do,” Kaiba interjected, but (Name) just shot him a dirty look.

“Are you questioning my professional judgement as a doctor, Mr. Kaiba?” she challenged, summoning an air of authority as her eyes met his.

Kaiba’s fingers twitched at (Name)’s blatant defiance, and his frown lines deepened. “One way or another you’re getting that shot, Mokuba. I don’t have time to worry over you if you get sick.”

“You don’t have to get it today, if you don’t want,” (Name) said, giving Mokuba’s hand a reassuring pat. “As your _doctor_ \--” she sneered at Kaiba as she said this-- “I’m letting you know it’s okay if you want to wait a bit.”

“Really?” Mokuba said. “Wow, Dr. (Lastname), you’re way nicer than your dad!” (Name) chuckled at this as she settled into the couch and watched Mokuba pull out his homework, leading to her asking her question about calculus about a half hour later.

“Nineteen, huh?” she said with a laugh. “Well don’t worry, Mokuba, I’ve met plenty of people who were late bloomers. I never would have guessed you used to be a runt if you hadn’t told me.” The skin on the back of (Name)’s neck prickled and she was acutely aware of the elder Kaiba’s eyes boring into the back of her skull in quiet anger, but she ignored him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of acknowledgement.

“Woah, really? That’s real nice of you to say, Dr. (Lastname)!” Mokuba grinned, pulling a book out of his backpack.

“Trust me, I’m a doctor,” (Name) said with a mischievous smile. “Ooh, what are you reading?” She snatched the book out of Mokuba’s hands and held it close to her face, out of his reach.

“Wha-- Hey! Give that back!” Mokuba said, reaching toward her with his arm outstretched.

Kaiba’s eyes widened as he watched (Name), quick as a viper, brandish the needle from her pocket and plunge it into the previously sanitized patch of skin on his little brother’s upper arm. Just as quickly (Name) recapped the needle and set it on the coffee table in a fluid motion. Kaiba’s jaw almost dropped, whether in awe or rage that (Name) was so cavalier with a sharp object near his brother’s face, he was unsure. (Name) looked up and her eyes met with Kaiba’s before she gave him a playful wink.

By this point Mokuba succeeded in wrestling his book from (Name), though she didn’t put up much of a fight. “What was that for?” he asked, before his eyes narrowed accusingly when he saw the syringe on the table. “Hey! Why is that out? You said you weren’t going to use that on me!”

“Yeah well, I lied,” (Name) said with a noncommittal shrug. “Doctors are allowed to do that.”

“I take back what I said!” Mokuba griped. “You’re worse than your father, Dr. (Lastname)!”

“Calm down, kiddo,” (Name) said with a snort. “I already gave you your shot. Here,” she said, rummaging through her medical bag for a moment before producing a bandage. “In case it bleeds.” She gently applied the adhesive covering over the slightly irritated skin on Mokuba’s arm.

“Wait, what?” Mokuba gaped, looking down at the little flesh-colored tape. “Nu-uh! When could you have done that? I didn’t even feel it!”

“A little misdirection and sleight-of-hand,” (Name) said with a playful wiggle of her eyebrows. “I did it when I took your book.”

“Woah, that’s amazing!” Mokuba gushed, grabbing (Name)’s arm and giving it a little shake. “I’ve changed my mind again. (Name), I mean, Dr. (Lastname), you’re amazing! You’re the best doctor I’ve ever had!”

“You’re too kind,” (Name) said, ruffling his shaggy mass of hair. Even though he was just a few years her junior and they’d just met but an hour ago, (Name) couldn’t helping thinking of Mokuba like a little brother she never had. “And you can call me (Name).” She raised her head and narrowed her eyes at Kaiba, who had been watching the whole exchange. “ _You_ may address me as Dr. (Lastname).”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer ‘Dr. Peanut?’” Kaiba shot back coolly, smirk growing as he watched (Name)’s nostrils flare in anger. She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply, before fixing him with a hard gaze.

“Okay, Mr. Kaiba, it’s time for your shot,” (Name) said, voice eerily calm. She grabbed the other syringe and made her way over to his desk, chanting Do no harm in her mind before she did something everyone would regret.

“No need,” Kaiba said dismissively as he continued to type on his desktop.

“Oh really,” (Name) said with a roll of her eyes. “Then why did Mr. Isono bring two sets of injections? When exactly was your last flu shot?”

“I am the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company, you can’t expect me to remember something as trivial as that,” he snapped.

“It’s been more than a year!” Mokuba sang from the couch. “Come on, Seto, if I had to get one, so do you! Besides, (Name) is great, you won’t even feel it!” Kaiba glared at his younger brother, grumbling something about it being a waste of time.

“Mr. Kaiba, don’t tell me you’re afraid of needles!” (Name) cooed in a mocking tone, grin wicked. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.”

“Don’t patronize me,” he growled, shooting (Name) an icy glare.

“Think of it this way,” (Name) said, unperturbed by his glowering. “You can either let me administer the injection now, or risk getting sick later and requiring me to care for you for days, if not weeks on end.” She placed a hand on her heart with an over dramatic flourish. “Just think of all the work time you would lose!”

“Fine,” Kaiba grumbled, shucking his midnight blue suit jacket and rolling up the sleeve of his black dress shirt. “Just make it quick.”

(Name) hummed and rubbed his upper arm with an alcohol-soaked cotton swab, mildly surprised by his lithe but defined arm muscles. “So what are you working on?” she lilted as she prepared the needle.

“I know what you’re trying to do, Dr. (Lastname),” Kaiba snapped, impatience evident in his ultramarine eyes. “I don’t need to be coddled like a child, and all you’re accomplishing is looking foolish. So, why don’t you give me the damn shot already so I can--”

“Done!” (Name) chirped, slapping a bandage on his arm with significantly less care than she used with Mokuba.

“I bet you didn’t even feel it!” Mokuba said. “Isn’t (Name) amazing, Seto?”

“She completed one of the duties I hired her for,” Kaiba grunted as he pulled his jacket back on. “That’s hardly exceptional. Now, it’s time for you to go home, Mokuba, so I can get some work done. You’re free to go for the day as well, Dr. (Lastname). I shall be in touch about scheduling mine and Mokuba’s physicals in the near future.” With that he turned back to his computer and began typing again, making no indication he would acknowledge (Name) or Mokuba further.

Only after they’d gathered their things and left did Kaiba stop to lean back in his chair and stare out the window at the city lying before him. His long fingers gingerly traced the bandage on his arm as he thought. He had never seen Mokuba warm up to a doctor so quickly -- it took months before he even spoke to (Name)’s father, and right up to the very end of the senior doctor’s career Mokuba needed to be restrained by Isono for even the most benign procedure.

Despite her naturally abrasive temperament, Kaiba observed Dr. (Lastname) exude a certain charm that seemed to calm others and put them at ease. He noticed it the other day when she attended to Fujima, and then today with Mokuba, and he even begrudgingly felt a sliver of tranquility before she gave him his shot. And just as Mokuba said, Kaiba didn’t even feel the needle go into his arm. He would sooner tell Wheeler he was a halfway-competent duelist than admit it out loud, but Kaiba had to agree with his brother: there was something about (Name) he found to be amazing.


End file.
